The man's life was secure, but the man's memory was even more compromised than expected. The man's childhood had been completely eradicated, but what happened next, the man did not expect. The blanks were being filled in, but the Memories were not the man's own.
They were Memories of times and places unbelievably foreign to the man. The Memories were unfathomable in scope and yet fit themselves neatly in the man's head. The Memories told a Story and made it clear to the man that the Story must be told.
The Memories made the man a vessel for the Story, and nothing more
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